


Embers

by masserect



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Community: springkink, F/M, Fire, Other, Smut, Voyeurism, Xeno, pervy ninja, property damage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masserect/pseuds/masserect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edge spies on Rydia as she steps out of the bath, not expecting her to have company - especially not <i>that</i> kind of company. But that doesn't mean he can just stop watching.</p><p>Written for <a href="http://springkink.livejournal.com">Springkink</a> in response to a request for "Rydia/(Eidolon) - Edge saw something he wished he could unsee."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Embers

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't remember exactly how Ifrit looked in IV when I wrote this, and ended up using a later incarnation. Oh well.

Edge has never been too concerned with doing "the right thing", but he knew from the beginning that what he was doing wasn't it.

But he can't help himself. He was never great at that whole self-control thing, and catching a glimpse - however brief - of Rydia in the nude certainly did not help matters.

The first time had been purely accidental. They had set up camp and he had gone to gather firewood, only to find her stepping out of a pond deeper in the woods, her body glistening in the golden light that filtered through the leaves. She had squeezed the water from her hair and sat back against a large tree to dry in the sun.

Edge had stared for a few moments before he backed away and left. But he had been unable to get the image out of his head, and later that night he had stroked his cock raw and still dreamt of her kneeling over him - still wet from the bath, dripping all over him - and sucking him off.

He had been unable to deny how badly he wanted her, but she had refused all his advances. So he had just been watching her whenever he could get away with it and jacking off while imagining that usually sharp tongue softly stroking his cock.

The first time had been accidental. This is anything but. With a small hand-held periscope and all but invisible in his black outfit, he is hiding underneath her window in the back of the inn, waiting. The bathroom has no windows, but she is in there now and should be coming out any minute. His heart is pounding and his cock is rock hard, straining against his pants in anticipation.

It's not the right thing to do, but _fuck_ doing the right thing, when doing the right thing means never seeing that woman in her full, naked glory again.

There is a click from the door. Edge draws a sharp breath, licking his lips. And she steps out - wearing a towel wrapped around herself, somewhat to his disappointment, but he can still see little drops of water slowly make their way down her neck and shoulders before the fabric soaks them up. There is something about the sight of water on her that drives him absolutely crazy. Little drops of moisture he could lick and kiss off her body, if she would only _let_ him...

That train of thought _crashes and burns_ as she drops the towel.

He is so hard, he almost expects his pants to tear. She is just so fucking _hot_. Her tits - he admits that they're the first thing about her that he noticed - aren't that big, but they look firm and their shape is just perfect. Her nipples are small, pink and seem hard, maybe from the cool air coming from the slightly open window. The curve of her hips seems made for him to wrap his hands about and her legs go on forever. He can just imagine what it feel be like to have them wrapped around him, and it drives him insane. There has never been another woman he has wanted this badly, and she just keeps ignoring him. It's not _fair_.

That train of thought crashes and burns as well when she raises both hands to her breasts, cupping them gently and rolling the nipples between thumbs and forefingers. She bites her lip; Edge licks his. Screw things not being fair, he is the luckiest man in the world. He just has to hope that she doesn't go off somewhere he can't see.

But she doesn't. She sits on the bed, in full view, and caresses her breasts. Makes a little noise of - he thinks - pleasure.

Lets one hand dip lower, drawing meaningless figures across her stomach. Making it to a spot just below her navel before she stops.

Edge prepares to flee, but she just seems to be switching positions. Swinging her legs off the bed, spreading them as she lies back against the pillow. A finger tentatively trailing down to brush her clit. She's glisteningly wet down there, too, but he can't tell how much of it is from the bath and how much from arousal. All he knows is that he can't believe how lucky he is. Careful not to make any noise and disturb this perfect scene, he awkwardly shifts hands on the periscope and lets his right wrap around his straining cock, stroking it fast and hard through the thin fabric of his pants.

She is _so fucking hot_.

He almost comes already when she slowly works a finger inside herself and strokes in and out, in and out with long, deliberate motions. Then a second finger joins the first. Her other hand starts to trail southward as well, its movements somewhat less smooth than the first. Her breath quickens as it makes contact with her clit. She raises a leg, putting her left foot up on the bed and uses it to lift herself up - unknowingly giving him a much better view of her pink nether lips, which definitely _are_ mostly slick with arousal now as her movements speed up, the first two fingers on her left hand thrusting rapidly into her while the right pulls, plucks and strokes at her clit. She whimpers as her entire body trembles, but eventually her hands stop and she lets herself fall back against the bed. She lies there, breathing hard for a few moments before sitting up, shaking her hands and looking around with a somewhat annoyed expression on her face. Edge freezes in place, thinking that he somehow alerted her to his presence, but she doesn't head for the window, or even look in his direction. Instead, she looks down and sighs, shakes her head.

Then she stands and moves her hands in a familiar pattern before giving an order Edge would never have imagined hearing here.

"Come, Ifrit."

There is a burst of flame and the scent of brimstone through the open window, and Rydia stands dwarfed by the immense _creature_ standing before her - a dark, heavily muscled, _largely_ humanoid frame with a leonine face; eyes of fiery crimson, glowing heatedly under hair the colour of flames, shifting from dark red to bright yellow. The creature is crowned by long, curved horns, almost scraping the ceiling, and naked save for the bands of worked gold ornamenting its arms and ears. _Ifrit_. A fire spirit whose immense power Rydia has employed to devastating effect in battle, but now, seemingly summoned for a different purpose.

Her voice is husky as she steps up to the demon, pressing her breasts flat against its lower stomach. "Could you help me with something...?"

Edge imagines hearing tiny hissing noises as the water on her body evaporates from the demon's touch.

Ifrit _grins_ , baring teeth the size of daggers. "Anything my lady wishes," it (he?) says, in low a voice that sounds like the crackling of a campfire and _feels_ like a blast of hot air across the skin. And the beast's massively clawed hand rises to stroke her back, hiding the summoner almost completely from Edge's view.

"I want _heat_ ," she hisses up at the eidolon, pressing herself harder against it. And Ifrit's grin widens as embers dances on his skin, and Rydia... moans and shivers against him.

"Heat," it says, in a tone that makes _Edge_ shiver, as its hand creeps lower, a finger already creeping slowly over those firmly rounded buttocks.

Then firmly dips and vanishes between her legs, and Rydia _gasps_. Her fingers digging into the unyielding wall of muscle that is the demon's chest.

The eidolon's grin only widens.

"Heat," it whispers again, and flames briefly flicker in its mouth as it lowers its head and a long, red tongue slips out between those terrible fangs to brush his summoner's neck, then slides down across her shoulder as the enormous finger moves slowly between her trembling thighs.

Face buried in the fiery red fur covering Ifrit's chest, Rydia moans a trembling _"Yes."_

When the eidolon raises its other hand behind her, she leans back against it and lets the creature lower its tongue to her breasts. She draws a sharp breath and arches back, would be staring straight out the window if her eyes had been open. Ifrit's finger moves faster between her legs, and she _squeals_ , twisting back and forth in the eidolon's grasp.

"Your tongue," she pants, and pulls at the beast's horns. "I want your tongue." As that very digit curls around her left tit and seems to _squeeze_. Rydia gasps again, but does not relent. "Put me on the bed." And Ifrit obeys the command, laying her down quite gently and kneeling on the floor, between her spread legs.

Brings his head down.

Extends his tongue. Looks up at the summoner, her eyes wide and glowing with anticipation.

And brings it up against her with a _slick_ sound that even Edge can hear.

Rydia cries out, a short, sharp noise as the eidolon's tongue makes contact. Her hands close on the creature's horns, knuckles whitening, and Ifrit calmly obeys her wordless commands, directing his efforts just where she wants, where she _needs_ them. Before long her entire body is trembling, her breath comes out short and ragged, and when she finally arches up off the bed, Ifrit's hands slip underneath her and cradle her gently as she thrashes about and pounds her heels on his back. She announces her climax with a low, mournful noise that seems to go on forever and her grip on the eidolon's horns falters as her hands tremble; then fall and come to rest on her thighs as a final powerful spasm shakes her.

This time, she does not sit up again for a long time. When she finally does, it is a slow, unsteady motion, helped in no small part by Ifrit's hand behind her back. She straightens herself, draws a long, shaky breath and collapses forwards, resting her head atop the eidolon's, between the horns, and drapes her arms loosely around its massive neck. And purrs wordlessly, and smiles, so obviously, _radiantly_ sated.

The eidolon purrs in response. "More?" it asks, drawing the R out to a long, deep growl.

A small, pink fist pounds a massive soot-black shoulder. "You _beast_ ," she says, laughing.

" _More_?" the demon repeats, and somehow extends its tongue to flick between her legs, and Rydia sits up straight and trembling, gasping, wide-eyed.

The tongue retracts somewhat.

"More?" Again, for the third time.

Rydia tangles her fingers in that fiery mane and brings her head down to look in the eidolon's eyes.

" _More_ ," she demands, so hungrily that Edge feels like his heart is about to stop. Is _this_ what she wants? It's certainly not the first time this happens. What the hell else has she been up to that he never found out about?

But Ifrit, unaware of the silent watcher's thoughts - or at least uncaring - simply chuckles.

"Let me down."

She still supports herself with a hand on the eidolon's arms as her legs wobble, and finally she sits down on the bed.

She sits. And Ifrit rises.

Edge's mouth goes dry as he sees for the first time what the demon was hiding as it knelt by the bed. The proof that _it_ is every bit as aroused by this as the summoner.

A rational mind might have realized that for all its mass, the eidolon is simply proportional to a human. But Edge's brain is not capable of rational thought as he watches Rydia wrap both hands around a cock thicker than her arm. All he can think is that she can't possibly expect to take that thing inside her, she would be _torn in two_ if she tired, but all she does is wrap her arms around the thing, hugging it firmly to her breasts.

"You're pretty excited," she says, in a tone that suggests this being commonplace for her (and for all he knows it _is_ ). And lashes out with her small, pink tongue to stroke the tip of the eidolon's cock, while Ifrit only purrs.

Edge can't even stroke his own cock as he watches Rydia lick, suck and rub against the eidolon's. She can't wrap her lips around it, but it doesn't stop her from trying, sometimes scraping her teeth against it in a way that might be painful to something a little less inhuman. The beast simply growls and closes its smouldering ember-eyes and thrusts slowly against her, allowing her to easily match its rhythm. It's not long before Ifrit rumbles a deep "Close..." and Rydia speeds up, concentrating her licks and kisses to the sensitive underside of the demon's cock.

The eidolon tilts his head back and lets out not a roar but a stream of bright yellow flame that scorches a good part of the ceiling as his powerful body goes still and rigid. Rydia barely moves her head out of the way in time to let the demon's seed splatter in the bed. Again. And again. Each time accompanied by a silent burst of flame. Each time accompanied by a slight shake of the demon's hips. Until at last the creature seems spent, leaving only a trickle of cloudy white fluid slowly making its way down the thick shaft... and across Rydia's hands.

And not just her hands. As the last spurts stop, she bows her head to taste the remaining fluid, smearing a good deal of it against her chest and stomach in the process, and Ifrit slowly opens his eyes to look down at her with what has to be a pleased look on his monstrous features. Rydia holds his gaze as she continues to lick and stroke until the massive organ is completely soft, leaving the entire thing covered in come and saliva. Only then does she let go, and reaches down to the floor to pick up the towel and dry herself off. In passing, she catches sight of the embers still glowing in the ruined ceiling and extinguishes them with a chilly breeze that rattles the window and swirls the curtains.

"Prepared?" rumbles Ifrit as the towel falls back on the floor and the summoner plops herself down on the bed again, legs spread.

"Be gentle," she says, slipping two fingers inside herself, then holding them up to show off the clear fluid covering them. Ifrit slowly licks them clean, and she shudders.

"But... not _too_ gentle," she continues, and then she's not saying more because a thick finger is slowly making its way inside her slick tunnel and no sound emerges even though her lips are moving. Ifrit's free hand comes up to stroke her breasts, gently pinching tiny pink nipples between massive black claws. It's hard to say how the thing manages one of those things inside her without causing damage, but while the summoner's noises and expressions may look pained at times, there is no doubt in Edge's mind that she's enjoying herself.

Immensely.

 _Increasingly._

And she finally cries out, not a restrained noise like the previous ones, but a scream of raw passion. A thick black finger comes up to her lips, and she bites down on it, trying to silence herself with marginal success.

And still Ifrit moves inside her. Sliding in. Sliding out, slick and glistening. Over and over. And Rydia comes. And comes. And _comes_.

It's only when her voice is hoarse and her body is covered in sweat that the demonic eidolon pulls out, only to lower its head and lick up the juices. Rydia can only whimper as the thick tongue works against her.

Satisfied, Ifrit sits back and waits for his summoner to come to her senses again.

It takes some time, but eventually, she sits up and gazes at the demon with tired, satisfied eyes.

"I needed that," she says as she somewhat awkwardly rises to place a gentle kiss on the eidolon's snout.

"Call for me when you have need," it says, obviously delighting in the double meaning. Rydia chuckles tiredly and lets herself fall back onto the bed, narrowly missing the big wet spot of semen in the back. The beast that left it there disappears in a flash and a slowly dissipating fiery haze, and Edge remembers how to breathe again. He can't even remember _coming_ , but the front of his pants is stained with a familiar sticky fluid and his cock is slowly softening in his grasp.

He feels somewhat dejected as he trudges back to his own room. How can he possibly stand a chance against _that_? His chances have gone from slim to none, all in the time it takes for a beautiful summoner girl to cream her brains out around a finger that's bigger than his dick.

No matter how much he tries, he can't even dream of touching her again without envisioning that _thing_ having its way with her.

...it's probably the last time he goes to sneak a peek at her.

But he makes sure he uses the word _probably_.


End file.
